Page 10 of Behind the Shadows
“Girl, you missed it,” Cami said, placing her hand on her hip as she approached me. Her pretty features flashed with mischief.
I rubbed my hands up and down my upper arms, as if trying to shake off the sudden cold seeping into my body—and hoping to hide the fact that I was upset. If Cami noticed my anxiety, she would demand explanations I wasn’t prepared to give. Yet, a part of me longed to confide in her, while I wrestled with the fear of vulnerability and the desire for support. “I desperately needed to use the bathroom. What did I miss?”
Cami sucked on her lower lip and tilted her head to the side. I followed her nod, preparing to see that monster again.
“The cops showed up and hauled that guy out of the ER. They’re talking to another nurse, Lyndsey, and Dr. Richton now.” She turned slowly, grinning like a Cheshire cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse.
I looked over at the two police officers engaged in conversation with Lyndsey and Dr. Richton.
“Oh, that’s nice scenery,” I said softly while I checked out the tall hottie with brown hair. His black pants clung to strong thighs and a gorgeous ass. I bit my lip, playing it up for Cami’s sake. I wasn’t interested in dating right now, but she didn’t know that. “Is he new?” Over the last few months, I’d met several of the officers due to my job here, but I didn’t recognize him.
His broad shoulders tensed beneath his blue shirt as he took notes, listening intently to Lyndsey.
“Girl, I don’t know, but maybe we should introduce ourselves. Officer Jackson is hot, but the other one … Hell, they both look like they walked off the cover of a magazine. They might be a fun night.” She stifled her giggle. “You take your pick.”
I wasn’t the only newly single one. Cami was still reeling from a brutal breakup, the kind that leaves cracks you can’t hide with lipstick and laughter. Her ex had been a cop too, which made it all the more surprising that she was willing to joke about dating another one.
“They certainly don’t hurt my feelings any, but you know I’ve sworn off dating cops.” Or anyone else involved with the law and with the ability to learn my secrets. Regardless, I was grateful for the fleeting distraction.
Cami squeezed my shoulder. “I think it could be good for you, babe. Getting under someone else could help you move on after Coop.”
“I wish it were that simple,” I said, unable to hide the pain in my tone. I still missed Cooper, but I would get over it. Over him. The relationship had been a constant rollercoaster, and I finally had to get off that wild ride. At least I’d left him in California, and the distance was good for my soul.
I watched as Officer Jackson's stern features softened slightly while speaking to Lyndsey.
As the conversation concluded, the new officer fixed his gaze on me, and my pulse pounded like a drum. His piercing brown stare pinned me in place with an intensity that stole my breath, sending an electrifying shiver racing down my spine. I hastily averted my attention, the heat of a blush burning my cheeks. Though I had no interest in a relationship, the whirlwind of fear and adrenaline from moments earlier had left me thrumming with energy, craving a release.
Apparently, I was infatuated with men in uniform, which was dangerous. Even Cooper had started digging too deep during our relationship, and I knew I had to sever ties before he unearthed my dark secrets. The thought of being near detectives or cops was worse than a nosy boyfriend, and it sent a jolt of panic through me. It was a gamble I couldn't afford to take.
The officers bid their farewells and headed toward the door, leaving a trail of staring nurses in their wake. My friend nudged me with a mischievous grin.
“Looks like the newbie has taken a liking to you,” she teased.
I rolled my eyes. “As much as I’d love to stay and keep you entertained, I need to head to my place.”
Cami gave me a big hug. “Be safe, and text me later.”
I offered her a warm smile. “I will. Have a good one.”
When Cami had learned I was a single woman in the big city, she’d made me promise to message her when I got home if I was out at night. She did the same with me and a few other friends. I appreciated the sense of safety it provided. Hell, we all did. Around the time I’d moved to Portland, there had been a serial killer on the loose, although there hadn’t been any news recently. It was almost as if he’d disappeared into thin air without leaving a trace. I could hope, anyway.
Still on high alert from the unexpected visitor, I scanned my surroundings with a hawk-like intensity as I stalked down the deserted hallway toward the elevator. The oppressive weight of the parking garage always gnawed at me, yet I convinced myself it was a fortress compared to the vulnerability outside, especially at night.
A sharp chill raced up my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood rigid, prompting me to slow my pace and whip around, searching frantically for a sign of movement. But the corridor was empty, mocking my paranoia. I steeled myself with a mental pep talk and dashed to the elevator, jabbing the button with urgency. The doors abruptly parted with a mechanical sigh, revealing a somber woman and her small child. I mustered a warm smile as they passed, though the shadow of their sadness clung to the air. Had they experienced the cruel hand of loss, or was a loved one battling for life in that sterile place? My insatiable curiosity, usually an asset in my line of work, nowserved as a mere diversion from the lingering dread that had clawed its way into my being. A shudder worked its way through me, and I gave the painful memories of my past a swift kick in the ass. I softly hummed “Paper Bag” by Fiona Apple as I waited for the elevator to reach the correct floor.
Before I reached my level, I located my car keys and held them tightly. I nodded at the people waiting to enter the elevator before I stepped out and into the garage. The parking lot had been nearly full when I’d arrived, and I’d been forced to park on the opposite side of the building entrance. My footsteps echoed through the otherwise quiet area, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I walked faster past a row of vehicles, chiding myself for forgetting my weapon at home. I always carried when I worked at night, but I’d been in a rush to leave and had forgotten.
Thundering footsteps pounded behind me, sending a cold prickling sensation through my body. I whipped around, my chest squeezing tight, but there was nothing—no one—in sight. My mind raced with denial, refusing to accept the possibility that I was losing my grip on reality. “Who's there?” I called out, struggling to keep my voice steady. My legs shook as I attempted to keep my back covered, but there were too many rows of vehicles that could easily hide someone. I was exposed.
Instead of a response, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind and a large palm covered my mouth, stifling my scream.
4
KIP
“Get back,” I ordered Death and shut the door. “We’ve got someone watching us. I have no idea who it is, but you know the drill. Go! Now!”
When Death had acquired the decrepit, abandoned building—an old warehouse with peeling black paint and windows boarded up like blind eyes—we’d understood that someday we might get caught. Despite our relentless efforts to avoid it, we were human and fucked up. And today was that day. Even though Death and I had poured sweat and tears over the last few years carving a hidden tunnel beneath the building, we had never needed to use it—until now.
